The Price of Thievery
by Solona Amell
Summary: The elf glared at the thief, not believing one bit of his lie. "I saw you steal from her. And I know that's not your real name." Her gaze didn't waver, even when she saw the daggers on his belt. He sighed. This would change all of his plans, but there wasn't much of an option. "Fine. Your right. Bryant isn't my real name. Its Brynjolf."


"Oh, Bryant! Always such a gentlemen!"

The woman smiled at the thief, completely oblivious of his motives. She wrapped an arm around his as they walked through the market. Brynjolf grinned back at her, trying his best to look convincing. As they browsed the vendor's wares, he prayed to himself that no one would recognize him.

The job was simple. Invite a noble to Riften. Then rob them blind. It was easy enough, even for a novice thief.

And yet, Brynjolf got stuck with the job.

He scolded at Mercer when he'd given out the commands. Vex was off to Golden Glow estate, Delvin received orders to set up some fences in Solitude. Everyone got a decent job except for Brynjolf. But he hid is dismay behind a charming smile, doing his best to look the part of a noble.

"What do you think of this one?"

The woman held up a necklace made of pure malachite and embedded with tiny, blue sapphires. Not exactly tasteful, but expensive enough. The jewelry stood out with her dress and furs, but not in a good way. It looked ridiculous on her, covering most of her neck and chest, but Brynjolf encouraged her anyways.

"It's beautiful, but it cleary can't compete with you."

She giggled, interrupted by snorts. Brynjolf cringed. He hated to do jobs like these, too up close and personal for his liking. But a noble like this one would be loaded with gold. Which was exactly what the guild needed right now. So instead of being forthright, he smiled again and let her pick through the jewelry.

This time she grabbed from a different stall, another necklace. It was clearly expenive, much more than the other necklace. It was a long, thick chain of gold with large emeralds twinkling in the front. Deffinetly something that would fetch a high price.

As she struggled to wrap the necklace around her, Brynjolf glanced around them. He had taken it upon himself to find clothes fit for a noble. As far as anyone else was concerned, he was just a rich man on a walk with a rich woman. It wasn't the best disguise, but it was enough to keep him hidden. Despite the fake name and the fancy clothing, it was easy to see through the facade. While most people walked by without a glance, a few lingered, staring directly at him. A sure sign that he was attracting too much attention. Even disguised as a noble, people were recognizing his face.

Which ment bye-bye gold for the guild.

The noble woman grunted as she finally got the necklace to click shut. "There, what do you think?"

She twirled in a circle, much more awkward than graceful, letting the necklace fly with her. But Brynjolf didn't bother to compliment her. Instead, he quickly slipped the other necklace into his pocket, careful to avoid the prying eyes of the merchant. He'd delayed long enough. If he wasted any more time, someone would be bound to catch on. He took ahold of the woman's hand

"How about we relax at home?"

She blushed, grinning. "Oh, Bryant. All you had to do was ask."

He choked back both disgust and laughter as she laid a handful of coins onto the stand. He lead her away from the market, as close to the shadows as possible. The woman didn't seem to notice, giggling and twirling her hair.

This was the most tricky part of the job. Getting the goods and ditching the woman at the same time. Easier said than done. What he needed was a distraction.

Brynjolf slowed his pace, trying for more time. He lingered just long enough to study the other citizens in town. There had to be some way to distract the woman long enough to finish the job. And as his eyes fell onto the jewelry merchant, an idea struck.

"Perhaps," he said turning to the woman. "We should get a bottle of wine for the evening?"

She scrunched her brow, then her face lit up in joy. "That sounds like a wonderful idea!"

He grinned, dragging her back over to the market, taking the necklace out of his pocket at the same time. As they reached the stand, he laid a hand on her waist.

"Why don't you pick the swill?"

She smirked at him, turning back to the many bottles that lined the stall. As she turned, Brynjolf slipped the necklace into her pocket, just as his hand left her waist.

After that, all it took was a few words to the jewelry merchant.

He slipped away from her side, inching closer to the vendor. The Argonian looked up and blinked as he approached.

"Can I help you?"

"Maybe," Brynjolf replied, glancing over his shoulder. He could see the woman squinting at the liquid inside the round bottles. "See that noble? I think she stole some of your merchandise."

The Argonian looked past Brynjolf, studying the woman. "She paid for that necklace."

"The one around her neck, not the one in her pocket. " The vendor still didn't act. "Trust me, I know a thief when I see one."

I just have to look in a mirror, he thought.

This time, the merchant looked down at his jewelry, noticing the missing Malachite necklace. Finally, he gasped.

"You! You are a thief! Guards! Guards!"

The woman turned in surprise, gawking at the lizard-skinned merchant. She looked to Brynjolf in confusion, but it was too late. The guards had heard the shouting. At least three of them made their way into the market, their destination clear. The few people shopping began to panic. And in just moments, all of the town was in chaos.

Before things could get out of control, Brynjolf grabbed the womam by the wrist, the guards were close, their weapons drawn.

"Bryant! Tell them I'm not a thief!" She gasped, her hands reaching out for her necklace. "You saw me pay, tell them!"

Brynjolf smiled. The woman didn't seem to understand, her mouth agape. He pushed her hand away from the necklace, plucking it off of her neck. She yelped out loud.

"Hey! What are you-"

"You paid for this necklace." He replied. "Not this one." He pulled the other necklace out from her pocket. She gasped in response, and watched as Brynjolf pushed both of them into his pocket. Before the woman could speak, he let go of her wrist and ran, leaving her to the guards.

And just like that, the job was complete. The woman would be arrested for theft of property she didn't have, and it would be too late to find the real culprit. Even if she tried to speak the truth, no one would believe the words of a thief. Besides, the guards would be looking for a man by the name of Bryant. Not Brynjolf. Which ment that he was home free, and the guild had two new and very expensive necklaces to sell off. Not too bad considering the guild's luck.

But as he hid beneath the shadows, Brynjolf felt the gaze of an observer upon him. He peered out of the darkness, his eyes resting on a cloaked figure, staring straight into his direction.

Someone had seen the entire crime.

He didn't move, shock taking over his body. For a slight moment, he was starting to doubt if the stranger had actually seen him.

Right until the cloaked observer bolted out of the market, running faster than Brynjolf had moments earlier.

He cursed out loud, sprinting after them. No one would believe the story from the noble woman, but an eye witness would change things. Brynjolf couldn't screw up a mission like this. It would not only make things worse for the guild, but also tarnish his reputation. And it would all be because of this random stranger.

By the time Brynjolf caught up, the sounds of the Market had faded. They had run out of Riften and into the surrounding woods. His assailant was finally out of breath, as was he. The stranger collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Brynjolf sighed. This game would finally be over.

"Alright lad. Lets just get a few things straightened out."

He stepped closer to the cloaked figure, expecting a plea of mercy.

And instead, was greeted with a large, wooden stick.

The stranger hadn't been gasping for breath. They'd been waiting for Brynjolf to step closer. To grab a chunk of wood and bash his face with it.

Clever. But very painful.

Brynjolf cursed, holding the side of his face, the wetness of blood trickling down his cheek. Just before the stranger ran again, he grabbed at the cloak that was caught in the wind.

The cloak slipped off, revealing not a lad, but a lass. A beautiful, lithe elf. She glared at Brynjolf's surprise, then snatched back her cloak. In one swift motion, she casted it back into his face, then grabbed onto a branch of a nearby tree.

Desperate, Brynjolf reached out to grab ahold of her. But he was too slow, and the elf disappeared into the wilderness. The only witness to his crime long gone.


End file.
